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XVII. A Chapter of Accidents
Athalfpasteleventhelettucesaladwasmade,thegoldencirclesofthepieswereheapedwithwhippedcream,andeverythingwassizzlingandbubblingthatoughttosizzleandbubble.
“We’dbettergoanddressnow,”saidAnne,“fortheymaybeherebytwelve.Wemusthavedinneratsharpone,forthesoupmustbeservedassoonasit’sdone.”
Seriousindeedwerethetoiletritespresentlyperformedintheeastgable.Annepeeredanxiouslyathernoseandrejoicedtoseethatitsfreckleswerenotatallprominent,thankseithertothelemonjuiceortotheunusualflushonhercheeks.Whentheywerereadytheylookedquiteassweetandtrimandgirlishaseverdidanyof“Mrs.Morgan’sheroines.”
“IdohopeI’llbeabletosaysomethingonceinawhile,andnotsitlikeamute,”saidDianaanxiously.“AllMrs.Morgan’sheroinesconversesobeautifully.ButI’mafraidI’llbetongue-tiedandstupid.AndI’llbesuretosay‘Iseen.’Ihaven’toftensaiditsinceMissStacytaughthere;butinmomentsofexcitementit’ssuretopopout.Anne,ifIweretosay‘Iseen’beforeMrs.MorganI’ddieofmortification.Anditwouldbealmostasbadtohavenothingtosay.”
“I’mnervousaboutagoodmanythings,”saidAnne,“butIdon’tthinkthereismuchfearthatIwon’tbeabletotalk.”
And,todoherjustice,therewasn’t.
Anneshroudedhermuslingloriesinabigapronandwentdowntoconcocthersoup.Marillahaddressedherselfandthetwins,andlookedmoreexcitedthanshehadeverbeenknowntolookbefore.
